







'5 vA 






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PARADISE OF FOOLS, 



-^ ^ OR THE 



WONDERFUL ADVENTURES 



BEELZEBUB BUBBLE. 

A SATIRE ON SOMEBODY, 
BY NATHAN NOBODY; 

WITH 

A CRITIQUE, 

BY SIMON SNAPPrNGTURTLE, ESQ. 



The sports of winds! all tliese, up-whiri'd aloft, 
Fly o'er the backside of the world far otF, 
Into a limbo large and broad, since call'd 
The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 
Long after; now unpeopled and untrod. — Milton- 

Fenuni habel in cornu, longe fuge. 

Run ! run ! he'll poke! — fier'^'s hay upon lii> l-oi n.-.- -H'''>-«cr 



- B A L T I M O R E: 

N. HICKMAN, 86, BALTIMORE STREET. 
• 1841. 



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\axJlLoXX ^ ^ -«-o^^- 



THE 



PARADISE OF FOOLS, 

OR THE 

WONDERFUL ADVENTURES 

OF 

BEELZEBUB BUBBLE, 

A SATIRE ON SOMEBODY, 

BY NATHAN NOBODY; tfi^^-^ i 



A CRITIQUE, 

BY SIMON SNAPPINGTURTLE, ESQ. 



The sport of winds! all these, up-whirl'd aloft. 

Fly o'er the backside of the world far off. 

Into a limbo large and broad, since call'd 

The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 

Long after; now unpeopled and untrod. — Jililton. 

Fenum habet in cornu, longe fuge. 

Run! run! he'll poke! — there's hay upon his horns. — Horace. 



BALTIMORE. 
N, HICKMAN, 86, BALTIMORE STREET. 

1841. 



[Entered according to the Act of Congress.] 



%, 






Sherwood &. Co. printers, Balto. 



A CRITIQUE 

ON 

THEPARADISE OF FOOLS; 

BY SIMON SNAPPINGTURTLE. 



The verses of this young man (for he tells us he is only 
three and twenty) are of a nature to call for the severest 
strictures of the press. He entitles his poem " The Para- 
dise of Fools," and surely no one was ever better fitted for 
describing such a place than himself. If we may judge 
from the plan and execution of the work, he must not 
only have been an eye-witness of what he describes, but 
must have had daily intercourse with the beings whom he 
represents as denizens of that place, until he acquired 
their manner and tone of thinking to perfection. He 
must have inhaled the Boeotian air of those regions until 
he fully imbibed the spirit of dullness, which he now 
pours out so lavishly in this most stupid and abominable 



4 A CRITIQUE ON 

work. And, should he revisit the blissful seats of " Para- 
dise," he has only to present it as his passport, and he is 
sure of instant admission. 

The poem is not only exceedingly dull, but cannot 
even make the least pretensions to originality. True it is 
that the plot and the sentiments are the author's own, and 
resemble those of no other work with which we are ac- 
quainted. But then it is written in the octave, Italian 
measure of Don Juan, and is not that alone enough to 
brand it as a base and servile imitation? It is not suffi- 
cient, at the present day, that a poet be bold, and vigor- 
ous, and original in thought and conception ; he must be 
original in the texture of his verse — nay ! I question if he 
should not be original in the very adoption of his lan- 
guage. He should not tamely and servilely use the vul- 
gar thees and thous, and ands, &c. &.c., which have been so 
often used before, but should substitute a diction alto- 
gether his own. And, tried by this standard, how few of 
our more modern bards stand a chance of immortality ! 
Walter Scott, with all his brilliant, and vivid, and life- 
like imagery and description, dwindles down into the 
slavish imitator, for Milton wrote in the octo-syllabic 
verse long before his day. Byron wrote Childe Harold, 
but, alas! Spenser used the stanza before! Even his 
Don Juan, thought by some to be altogether his own, has 
not the least claims to originahty. The measure in which 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 5 

it is composed was adopted in Italy centuries ago, and 
Gay and Whistlecraft first gave it an English dress. Yes, 
Byron himself, with all his unmerited fame, is a vile plagi- 
arist, destined soon to be forgotten; and, of modern Eng- 
lish poets, Robert Southey alone has established any just 
claims to originality, by writing long and laboured poems 
in a style and stanza unheard of before. Verse was once 
looked upon as only the medium through which the poet 
conveyed his thoughts to the minds of others. But that 
was the mistake of a barbarous age. It is the all-import- 
ant thing. It was once like the sword upon the field of 
strife ; when dropped by one combatant, another might 
catch it up, nor be thought the worse warrior because the 
other had wielded it before. The vigour of the blows 
dealt with it was the only thing considered. But now 
every man must use his own weapon, or be contented to 
lose his reputation forever. 

Such are the canons of criticism, deduced from the im- 
mutable laws of nature and common sense, and lately 
established by us autocrats of the quill. They are as in- 
faUible as the decrees of the Vatican. And, tried by 
these rules, this young gentleman's verses must meet 
with the most unqualified condemnation. 

But there are stronger objections to the poem than 
these. Its morality is of the most shocking character. 
Without more than barely adverting to the profanity of 
1* 



6 A CRITIQUE ON 

christening his hero after a being entitled to our highest 
respect and veneration ; without quoting passages in 
which the name of his Satanic Majesty is used in the 
lightest and most irreverent terms ; without stopping to 
show how his characters are made to speak blasphemy 
almost as horrid as any in Milton, I would just point out 
the manner in which he stigmatizes the reverend Parson 
Bubble. In the grave strain of irony, with which he en- 
deavours to satirize a certain class, I see an insidious and 
dangerous attack upon religion itself. The parson, it is 
true, is a hypocrite ; but hypocrites should always be sa- 
cred from the rude hand of satire. The prodigal, the 
miser, the man of ambition, the libertine, are all confess- 
edly fit subjects for the satirist, for they have only the 
weaknesses of poor human nature to plead in extenuation. 
But not so with the hypocrite ; and therefore he should 
be sacred and untouched. The former, most generally, 
only injure the temporal happiness of others, and oftener 
of themselves ; but the hypocrite sends hundreds of souls 
to perdition, and is therefore perfectly harmless, and 
should be suffered to move about without molestation. 

But another objection to the poem is the very hostile 
spirit which it exhibits towards a number of unfortunate 
authors, forsaken by the Muses, and kicking and flounder- 
ing in the slough of Dullness and Despondency. Had 
the satirist been instigated by some private pique, or petty 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 7 

spite, there might have been some shadow of excuse ; but 
there is none such whatever. On the contrary, we learn 
that this young man has not a single personal acquaint- 
ance among the literary men of the day ; that he has 
always lived in obscurity, and consequently can have no 
cause of malice against any one. He has then been 
guilty of a most wanton, and cold-blooded, and unpro- 
voked attack upon men whose only offence is that of 
having disgraced the national literature, for a number of 
years, with impunity, and who have, as it were, acquired 
a kind of prescriptive right to scribble and act as absurdly 
as they please. 

We cannot conveniently examine, in detail, the injus- 
tice of his many attacks, but shall only instance that 
made upon the venerable gentleman with whom he com- 
mences. He should have had more respect to his years.* 
When a young man, without the lights of experience and 
the wisdom which age alone can bestow, and with the 
hot, fiery, and impetuous passions of youth living and 
glowing within him, is hurried on into some trifling ab- 
surdity, he should be severely censured by every one. 
But not so with the man of years. His follies are sancti- 
fied by the colour of his hair. They should have respect 
unto his gray locks. He may commit absurdities, that 
would disgrace a school-boy, with impunity- 
* Quere. Ears ? — Printer's devil. 



8 A CRITIQUE, &c. 

We have not leisure to dwell upon the many other 
imperfections of this production, but shall onl}'' notice the 
low and vulgar style in which it is written. The poet's 
characters all use the most uncouth and unpolished lan- 
guage, and often act in the most clownish manner, threat- 
ening to slap each other's jaws, &c. &c. How different, 
in this respect, from " one of the most deservedly popu- 
lar writers in either hemisphere," the gifted author of 
" The Lady Jane," whose ideas never get outside of a 
drawing-room ! It is a poet's duty to describe the insipid 
and silly scenes of fashionable life ; or, if he ever conde- 
scends to visit the field, the forest, or the shore, or min- 
gle among the busy crowd of the every-day world, he 
should make his shepherds, his fishermen, his clowns, 
converse in the most polished terms, and conduct them- 
selves as if each were on his good behaviour. 

But enough of the multiplied deformities of this little 
volume. It is the author's first folly of the kind, and we 
hope it will prove his last. Should we, however, be mis- 
taken, and should he still persist, 

" in spite 
Of nature and his stars, to write," 

we fear his friends will have to — to — to — (is it possible 
that I have forgotten the stereotyped expression which I 
have been using for so many years? Ah! this is it!) to 
apply the remedy of a straight jacket. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS, 

OR THE 

WONDERFUL ADVENTURES 

OP 

BEELZEBUB BUBBLE, 



I'm going to make a poem, gentle readers, 
And ye most gentle, gracious critics too, 

Who of the Muses' parterre are the weeders, 
And roam with searching ej'cs their hot-beds through; 

In this strange age there are prolific breeders 
Of verse in bulky volumes not a few, 

So I will write, who am just three and twenty, 

And must, ere this, be wise enough a plenty. 

II. 

All now make books, and every man 's a poet, — 
Of whom some, with most wondrous versatility, 

Heels-over-head, do make the young muse go it. 
As if they meant to show us her agility, 

And in full many a tortur'd line they show it. 
While some display in novels their ability, 

Which maybe, with pathetic close, would steep 

Us all in tears if we were not asleep. 



n THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

III. 

Then there 's Lorenzo Dow, who, e'er in season, 

And out, was the stern enemy of evil, 
Until he found his wonted vigor freezing. 

Nor able then to tug it with the devil; 
He set about to forge the "Chain of Reason," 

Composed of "five links, two hooks, and a swivel," 
And must have put his chain to use, I trow, 
For reason seems chain'd hand and foot just now. 

IV. 

Well, poems must, as Aristotle says, 

Each have beginning, ending, and a middle; 

So saith each learned critic, since his days. 

Who sifts the grains of poesy through his riddle. 

In order therefore to begin our lays, 

Miss Muse, just take your jews-harp, or your fiddle, 

For, if there 's no beginning to this poem, 

There '11 be no end — so come, no further proem, — 

V. 

But blazon forth how John Killall, a man 

Of medicine, was seated in his study. 
Sipping sweet comfort from a well-fiird can. 

With feet spread out before a coal-fire ruddy ; 
And how his mind, in retrospection, ran 

Upon his many feats of triumph blood}^ 
Which sent poor souls, as swift as arrows shoot, to 
The gloomy firm of Proserpine and Pluto. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 13 

VI. 

There came a knock, and then a voice did hail — 

The door was op'd — one met him with "good ev'ning." 

"Good evening, sir — whence come you.?" " From the 

jail." [ing. 

" Who 's sick .?" "No one." It was a source of griev- 

" What want you then with me}" "I bring the mail. 
A gentleman requested me to leave in 

Your hands what will explain the business better 

Than I can — if you will but read this letter." 

VII. 

The doctor scans it through his dark green goggles, 
And grimly smiles, with most unfeign'd delight. 

Looking as lovely as lone ghouls or bogles, 
Upon a tomb, enjoying the moon-light, 

As he th 'epistle thus so fondly ogles, 
Holding it close unto his raptur'd sight, 

And then exclaims, "My hat — my cloak — this weather 

Is cursed bad. — And now, sir, we'll together." 

VIII. 

Forth went this goodly pair from out the hall ; 

The tempest roar'd, and they did buffet it 
Till they attain' d the gloomy prison wall ; 

They reach'd the portal and did stoutly cuff at it. 
Until some one responded to the call ; 

They went up a huge staircase, and did puff at it, 
Until they found at length a lonely cell. 
About as roomy as a Moscow bell. 
<2 



34 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

IX. 

They were admitted by the friendly jailor, 
And there they saw, extended on the floor, 

A man dress'd in the plain garb of a sailor, — 
Yet he, who once the lion's cast-offs wore, 

(Alcides, not the jackass) ne'er look'd haler ; — 
His limbs a most enormous body bore. 

Or else, with their amazing longitude, egad ! he 

Had look'd like what is term'd by school-boys a grand- 
daddy. 

X. 

The fellow rose up from his posture humble, 

And shook his limbs with chains encircl'd all over, 

Which doubtless was the cause of his sad stumble, 
For pitching forward, in his luckless fall over 

A stool, he gave his guest good cause to grumble, 
As his huge head, more dreadful than a maul over 

One brandish'd in the fist of some Goliah, 

Fell'd him ere he could ejaculate, my ! Ah ! 

XI. 

Down sunk the doctor — up he rose again, 

As lightly as a ball of India rubber ; 
More slowly rose the other with his chain, 

And told our body-curer not to blubber, 
For in good sooth his eyes began to rain, 

From rage or anguish, and, like cudgel'd cub, or 
School-boy, (fancying that there was a bone in 
His body broken), he broke out a moaning. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 15 

XII. 

■' Ho ! never mind, man — if a leg is broken, 

You are a doctor, and with little trouble 
Can make repairs !" A black frown did betoken 

That the physician did endure the rub ill, 
And was with stifled warlike feelings choking. 

'•' Why, who the devil are you, sir ?" "A Bubble 
About to burst, my learned and worthy Galen — 
Don't stare ! — 'tis true as I'm this cursed jail in. 

XIII. 

" Beelzebub Bubble is the honest man, sir, 

You see before you, (if, through eyes that glisten 

With divers dew-drops, see at all you can, sir,) 

And whence I came, and wherefore they did christen 

Me thus, I'll tell you ; and perhaps 'twill answer 
As well, by way of episode, to twist in 

The thread of my discourse the sad adventure 

Which in the end your humble servant sent here. 

XIV. 

" My father was an honest man of course, 

And liv'd where the big dashing waves did bellow 

Against the rock-ribb'd shore with all their force ; 
Shut from the world like bull-frog in a well, or 

Within his granite quarters dark and coarse. 

Save that with him dwelt many a worthy fellow, 

Who, the strict lines 'tvixt meum and 'twixt tuum, 

Could ne'er perceive — at least they seldom drew 'em. 



16 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

XV. 

" For when the waves and whirlwind took a tussle, 
And, in their wild confusion and uproar, 

Some hapless shipwreck'd vessel chanc'd to jostle 
Against the rocks that lay along the shore. 

They search'd the wreck, and seiz'd, amid the bustle, 
The shivering wretches, stripp'd off all they wore, 

And then, instead of giving them a lift, 

Without a rag they turn'd them all adrift. 

XVI. 

" Fishers of men they styl'd themselves, and they 
Affirm' d they were a pure and spotless band ; 

For, when the sky bespoke a cloudless day. 
And not a breath of air swept sea or land, 

So that they had spare time to sing and pray, 
No bellowing bulls, that spurn the flying sand, 

E'er made a noise so loud and so prodigious 

As did these people when they felt religious. 

XVII. 

" Of this queer sect my father was the pastor ; 

And as one day he dealt to each his rations, 
In character of his spiritual master, 

As, mounted on a gum-log, in strange fashions. 
His arms and legs strove which should be the faster 

Mov'd by most holy or unholy passions, — 
They told him that his wife, with some small trouble, 
Had manag'd to produce a little Bubble. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 17 

XVIII. 

"It was your humble servant who thus came 
Into the world, mid shouting and mid song: 

And that he might grow up amid the same, 
And in the service wax exceeding strong, 

My worthy parents would select no name 
Save what unto the Scriptures did belong. 

And so they gave their spectacles a rub, 

And search'd and found the name of Beelzebub. 

XIX. 

" My mother fancied it, but Nebuchadnezzar 
My father wished to call me, or Abaddon, — 

So words ran high, (as they did when ever good day, sir, 
They bade to reason, and began to madden,) 

When she (as she did when he ever could raise her) 
Seized a big stick, to lay it my old dad on ; 

But he shut up, for, arguing with the poker. 

He knew that Mrs. Bubble was no joker. 

XX. 

" So, thanks unto the poker, tongs, and shorel. 
They nam'd me Beelzebub ; and I soon grew. 

Though coop'd up in my daddy's smoky hovel, 
A goodly personage unto the view ; 

And I began my father's trade to love well. 

And help'd to rob full many a shipwreck' d crew ; 

Or when he held forth, and became uproarous 

In sacred music, I join'd in the chorus. 
2* 



18 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

XXL 

" Thus I iiicreas'd, 'mid pillage and mid worship, 

Until I did a mighty stature reach ; 
When one day, as the waves had ceas'd to rush up 

In foamy tumult on the rocky beach. 
And the rude winds did all their murmurs hush up. 

My father thought he 'd best get up to preach, 
There being no hopes of wrecks amid the calm — 
So he unmask'd his battery on old Sam. 

XXII. 

" And letting fly, as if he meant to rout 
Whole troops of devils in his pious fury. 

He clapp'd his hands, and stamp'd, and rais'd a shout, 
As though each soul, by force of lungs, to cure he 

Was fully bent ; — and I do greatly doubt 

If, when he'd finish'd, you'd there find a jury 

To judge impartially a sinner's case. 

They were so prepossess' d against the race. 

XXIII. 

" But in the midst there came a well-known sound — 
' A wreck ! a wreck !' Up sprung the pious throng. 

That lay with contrite spirits on the ground, 

Wallowing the dust, and dirt, and leaves among ; — 

O'er boxes, benches, stumps, they wildly bound. 
Like nimble goats the Alpine crags among, 

On, headlong, rushing to the sea-wash'd beach, 

And leaving Daddy to himself to preach. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 19 

XXIV. 

"But he cried out, ' Stop, friends, I do entreat — 
Oh, pause ! reflect-! consider what ye do ! 

Return ! stay! harken unto counsel meet! 
Sweet friends, just listen to a word or two !' 

His voice prevail' d — they stopp'd — and, from his seat 
Descending, near unto the crowd he drew 

In haste ; and, when he found he had got there. 

He cried out, ' Brethren, let us all start fair '.' 

XXV. 

" Then off they went, like greyhounds from the slip ! 

As straight as balls fly from exploded cannon ; 
None fast as parson Bubble's self did skip 

Along, as though he for a wager ran on ; 
But, ah ! he stumbled — fell — and out did rip 

A luckless oath, as he perceiv'd a man on 
His stomach place his foot, and thought it right, 
When he got up, to challenge him to fight. 

XXVI. 

"The rest, though willing, were exceeding dull men, 
Moving along as though their feet were lead. 

Whom I'd not choose, if I did chance to cull men, 
To win a race. — So I got far ahead, 

Andreach'd the shore, where, on a bit of hull, men 
Had floated, stifl", and motionless, and dead, — 

They were but two — one shot, and t'other stabb'd, 

Who in his fist a dog's paw tightly grabb'd. 



20 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

XXVII. 

" Some boiler, bursting, sent them with one dog 
To float, without provisions, on a deck ; 

With fasting each grew greedy as a hog. 

And so they sever'd the poor spaniel's neck, 

And, drinking up his blood instead of grog, 
The beast kept them alive upon the wreck, 

Until, disputing over the last paw, 

They finally appeal'd to nature's law. 

XXVIII. 

" That paw a bone of sad contention grew, 
And terribly aveng'd poor murder'd Ranger ; 

This I regarded not, but on me drew 

The coat and trowsers of the biggest stranger, 

An action which I soon had cause to rue, 

And found I'd thrust my good self into danger, 

For, ere of plunder I had got my fill, 

I saw some men come riding down the hill. 

XXIX. 

" My lagging friends, whom I had left behind, 
Fled when the horsemen first had come in sisrht, 

And hid themselves, because they had no mind 
To stay and welcome them with much delight. 

'Twas justice's myrmidons, who came to find 
Your humble servant in an awkward plight. 

As they dash'd down, as though each had old Harry on 

Behind, to where I robb'd the sailor's carrion. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 21 

XXX. 

" I stopp'd not then to bid the strangers welcome — 
A thought like that ne'er enter'd once my head — 

But, e'en as if I'd seen a troop of hell come, 
I took unto ray friendly heels and fled 

Away, while my pursuers did pell-mell come 
Clattering behind with execrations dread ; 

But, from my knowledge of the uneven ground, 

I disappear'd, and thought I'd safety found. 

XXXI. 

" Most desperately Irush'd along, and made 
As wild a sight as you e'er set your eyes on, 

Until I plung'd into a forest shade 

As dark as though the day had left the horizon. 

On, on I rush'd, and reach'd an open glade. 
When, as I could no longer hear more cries on 

The rear, I stopp'd, and thought that it were best, 

As I was breathless, to sit down and rest. 

XXXII. 

" So I sat down, amid the open space, 

Upon the soft and grassy sod reclining, 
And 'twixt my knees my borrow' d hat did place, 

And, as the sun just o'er that spot was shining, 
I buried in its ample depths my face, 

And fix'd my curious gaze upon the lining, 
And then, alas ! — confound that rhyming fellow ! 
If I e'er meet him, how I'll make him bellow ! 



22 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

XXXIII. 

" The owner, who upon the wreck lay slain, 
Had lin'd it with a bit of huge newspaper, 

Called ' Brother Jonathan,' which did contain 
A poem, only fit to light a taper, 

Or wipe a razor, cali'd ' The Lady Jane ;' 

O'er which sad stuff the modest bard did vapour, 

PufF'd it himself, and said ' a great sensation 

' T would cause in this and in the British nation.' 

XXXIV. 

"A great sensation ! — Faith ! 't was as he said — 
Oh, doctor ! doctor ! did you e'er a dose 

Of laudanum take, and then your drowsy head 
Upon a pillow, cramm'd with hops, repose. 

And covering up yourself within the bed 
Hold a huge bunch of poppies to your nose ? 

Then, only then! you e'er can guess the feeling 

Which heavily was o'er my senses stealing. 

XXXV. 

" I read — Oh that I 'd never learnt to spell ! — 
Three sleepy stanzas, and could read no more. 

For o'er my frame a drowsy numbness fell, 
Which clos'd each eyelid like a leaden door, 

And I imagine (but of course can't tell) 

I scar'd the wild birds with my sonorous snore ; 

But this I can say, that I had a dream 

Which even to think of makes me to blaspheme. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 23 

XXXVI. 

"Methought the poet and his works were tied 
About my neck, and that I then was thrown 

Into foul Lethe's dark oblivious tide, 

Where, as I mid the filthy mud did moan, 

His books, to tadpoles turn'd, did o'er me glide, 
While he himself, a mammoth bull-frog grown, 

Seiz'd on my luckless neck with grip so fell 

That I awoke with a terrific yell. 

XXXVII. 

" I yell'd — and op'd my eyes — and yell'd again — 
Then started up — and well I might do so ! 

Accursed bard ! to you ! to you ! this chain — 
To you alone this sad mishap I owe ! 

Had you ne'er spawn'd forth your dull, stupid strain, 
I now had been as free as forest doe ; — 

But Oh ! alas ! your verses have undone me ! 

I slept, and my pursuers came upon me ! 

XXXVIII. 

" I woke — one by the shoulder did me nab hard. 
Like mastiff grim engag'd in fierce cynarctomachy ; 

Another drew his sabre from the scabbard. 

Ready (as I did tremblingly remark) to hack a 

Limb off, if from the one who did me grab hard 
I strove to run ; while keenly as a shark, to pack a 

Whole boat's crew in his belly all intent, 

A third his eager eyes upon me bent. 



24 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS 

XXXIX. 

" I was o'erpower'd, and so I struck my flag, 
For certes 't would become me to resist ill, 

Who had no sword from shinino; sheath to drajj;, 
Nor e'en a rusty knife, or dirk, or pistol, 

Or else (albeit I do not mean to brag) 

Those same three gentlemen had seen me bristle, 

And soon discover'd that they 'd caught a Tartar, 

But ill-dispos'd to be a patient martyr. 

XL. 

"But, as it was, they dragg'd me off to jail. 
And afterwards unto the courts of law ; 

And there the keenest counsel all did fail 
In the indictment to find out a flaw ; 

And so they spoke, but yet without avail. 
Pathetically of the spaniel's paw. 

For others told the jury of the dead, 

And how I was discover'd there and fled. 

XLI. 

" The judge drew on his big black cap, and told 
Me to be hang'd till I was dead, dead, dead ; 

There being naught worse to fear then, I grew bold. 
And haughtily unto his honour said, 

' Sir, since to me such language you do hold. 
Just kiss my foot till it is red, red, red.' 

The lawyers laugh'd, the jury all look'd curious, 

Tiie clerks star'd wildly, and the judge grew furious. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 25 

XLII. 

"This, doctor, brings us to the affair in hand ; — 
Now, as I'm soon to have a hempen collar, 

And can but live a short time in the land, 
'Mid frolic, fun, and plenty I would wallow, 

And make the most of life ; but at command 
I've little cash — so give me a ten dollar 

Bank-note t' expend in gin and brandy toddy, 

And duly I'll bequeath to you my body." 

XLIII. 

" It is too much, friend Beelzebub." " Too little 
You mean to say ; — but 'tis no use to higgle — 

I'll not abate my price one jot or tittle. 

Too much, d'ye say ? Why, Lord ! a good fat pig 'ill 

Bring that almost to fill a pot or kettle." 

The doctor 'gan to twist, and turn, and wriggle, 

And then the money from his pocket drew. 

Because he found 'twas fruitless for to jew. 

XLIV. 

Time flew — the day arriv'd — the crowd collected 
Where, 'mid a large and spacious jail-yard green, a 

Tall, dreadful looking gallows was erected ; 
Their numbers fill'd the whole of the arena; 

The man was hung — with rope about his neck, did 
Desp'rately dance on nothing — first was seen a 

Few supple kicks — then, after a short shiver, 

Poor Beelzebub had ceas'd to be a liver. 
3 



26 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

XLV. 

The hangman cut him down (some said too soon), 

And, when the heavens grew dark from east to west, 

The body, by the light of the clear moon [he sent 

Unto the doctor, as the final testament. 

Found in the pocket of the drunken loon, 

All duly signed, directed — thus 'twas guess'd he meant 

At least, albeit a cramp'd and crooked hand he 

Did write, his nerves being shaken by the brandy. 

XLVI. 

The doctor thank' d the man that brought the body — 

And, as in the beginning of our story. 
We found him sipping from a can of toddy. 

So he did now ; — and, as he mellow' d, swore he 
Wish'd Bubble well, and hop'd the rugged road he 

Had 'scap'd which leads poor souls to purgatory, 
And, imprecating evil on his eyes. 
He said the man was fit for Paradise. 

XLVII. 

" An honest fellow — keeps his promise — hiccup !" 

He set the body upright in the closet, 
And stagger'd to the table, and did pick up 

The can, and fondly thrust unto his nose it. — 
" A clever cock ! — and for a drop did stick up" — 

Here in his throat a pint he did deposit — 
" A worthy man! — they say he lov'd good rum. 
And, by old Bacchus ! I will give him some." 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 27 

XLVIII. 

He now was senseless as a Corybante, 

Thumping upon a brazen pan or kettle, 
Or drunken Pat, stretch' d out before a shanty ; 

He swore that Beelzebub should have a little — 
Yet down his throat he did not pour a scanty 

Portion of liquor, nor imagin'd it ill 
To give him now what, when alive, each shilling he 
Would always part with, to obtain, most willingly. 

XLIX. 

Thus the kind-hearted sot pour'd consolation 

Into his friend the best way he was able, 
(For such he always deem'd a full potation,) 

And then he stagger' d back unto the table, 
Like good ship toss'don billow's undulation ; 

Set down the bottle, and, with step unstable. 
Totter' d, and lurch' d, and, pitching forward o'er 
A chair, fell on the bed, and 'gan to snore. 



He loudly slept, and terribly he snorted 
As e'er did war-steed on the field of strife ; 

He dreamt a pleasant dream, and, as he thought, did 
Stand o'er poor Beelzebub with gleaming knife, 

Andcarv'd him neatly up, and so assorted 
The various parts as pleas'd him to the life. 

He starts ! — he wakes ! — Oh, God ! as cold as death, 

A hand upon his throat impedes his breath. 



28 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

LI. 

The moon-beams fell within the room, and dimly 

He saw a form, by the uncertain light, 
Which his wild fears made big as cottage chimney, 

Fast by the bedside, standing bolt upright, 
Naked, and horrible, and gazing grimly. 

The doctor, had he been a man of fight. 
Had at that fearful vision turn'd a Quaker, 
And eke become a non-resisting Shaker. 

LII. 

But John Killall was never more than half a man, 
That is (especially when drunk), a demi-John ; 

Besides, 'twas not a thing at which might laugh a man 
Of courage, when such horrid sights burst him upon — 

'Twere 'nough to make as timid as a calf a man 
To see a huge, tall, naked form glare grim upon 

Him 'mid the gloom, like tom-cat on a mouse, 

When there was not a soul about the house. 

LIII. 

For, being wifeless, he'd but one poor slave. 
Who'd run away — so he was all alone. — 

The huge paw clutch'd his throat, but ere he gave 
The ghost up, he gave forth a piteous moan, — 

" Oh ! oh !"— " Wake up !"— " A vaunt !"— " Come, stir 
Old fellow ! — 'Tis no use to grunt and groan ; [my brave 

You are a fool to give yourself such trouble ! 

I will not eat you — I am but a Bubble." 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 29 

Liv. 

The doctor sprung as though a burning bullet 
Had lodg'd itself within his brain or breast, 

And squall'd as loudly as a frighten'd pullet 
With hungry weasel's claws about its crest. — 

The dead alive ! — appalling thought ! — how full it 
Was of horror ! — When he lay down to rest 

Poor Beelzebub was stiff as a corn-stalk in 

The closet, and behold him now a talking! 

LVI. 

He leapt about, and cut such capers antic. 

And did as much agility display, 
As ever Madam Ellsler, though she can kick 

Her chaste and modest heels so high for pay, — 
For fear had almost made the doctor frantic ; — 

At last he dropp'd upon his knees to pray, 
And did for once those haughty joints unbrace, 
And begg'd the Powers to pity his sad case. 

LVII. 

Reader, I know you think that I am lying, 
Like Captain Booby in his book of travels, 

So, in few words as possible replying, 

I will endeavour to hush up your cavils. — 

The man was not hung dead — the brandy flying 
Right down his throat, reviv'd him. This unravels. 

Without a doubt, the mystery of the story, 

And lays it plain as daylight all before ve. 
3* 



30 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS 



LVIII. 

With this Killall was duly made acquainted, 

But not till after some hours did elapse ; 
For first he prayed, and then with terror fainted — 

But Bubble puts the bottle 'twixt his chaps, 
And soon a gentle tinge his cheeks hath painted — 

Death's paleness vanishes — he struggles — gapes — 
And opes his eyes — looks up — and loudly bellows, 
And thinks his life he to a demon fell owes. 

LIX. 

But time will make the doubter a believer — 
Ay ! even the stoutest that did ever cram any 

Of the foul precepts of that she deceiver, 

(The manly Fanny, "Venus" of great Tammany), 

Right down his throat — some day perhaps 'twill grieve her 
(Though I wish not to ship off to old Sam any) 

To see grim Death annihilate annihilation, 

And other doctrines that afford such consolation. 

LX. 

No snorting, praying Puritan am I ; 

I hate, as serpents hated by a frog, any 
Of these same hypocrites who feign and lie, 

And yet my heart 's not harden'd like mahogany, 
That I can think, when those I cherish die, 

They'll live no more. No better than a dog, any 
Fellow can be who triumphs in the thought 
Of seeing all he loves reduc'd to naught. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 31 

LXT. 

But to leave off digressions, which I own 
Are out of place — experience that will make 

The skeptic a believer (as we've shown), 
Con vine' d the doctor that what he did take 

For spirit, was but flesh, and blood, and bone, 
And that it was, in short, a sad mistake 

To fancy his friend Beelzebub a demon, 

Merely because at first he chanc'd to seem one. 

LXII. 

Let's skip some hours, just fancying that the pair 
Had meanwhile to an explanation come ; — 

'Twas noon, and, Beelzebub being dress'd, they were 
Together seated in a private room ; 

A table was spread out between them, where 
The bottles blush'd with brandy and with rum ; 

The doctor first a hearty pull did take. 

Then thus unto his boon companion spake : — 

LXIII. 

" Friend Beelzebub, since, causing me affright, 
You rous'd me up, ere it was twelve o'clock, 

Out of a pleasant dream, I think you might, 
Just to repay me for the awful shock, 

Tell what you saw, when on your airy flight 
To regions where th' unbodied spirits flock, 

Unless, while tarrying in the land of ghosts. 

Some secrets pass'd between you and your hosts." 



32 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

LXIV. 

Quoth Beelzebub, " Friend doctor, pass the bottle ; — 
And now just promise not to interrupt, 

And you may find your queries answer'd not ill. 
Jack-ketch (as vile a dog as e'er was pupt) 

Put rope, as you well know, about my throttle, 
And then did launch me, with a kick abrupt, 

(For which he'll feel the weight of this same hand,) 

From off existence' narrow neck of land. 

LXV. 

" Doctor, T can't describe the strange sensation 

I felt in dying, but can only say 
That it did hurt me like the very nation 

At first, and then the pangs did pass away. 
And I sprang forth amid the wide creation. 

An airy ghost, freed from my load of clay, 
And skimm'd the air as lightly as an owl, 
Or hawk, or crow, or any winged fowl. 

LXVI. 

" I felt most joyous at my liberty, 

And on my viewless pinions sail'd along 

Swifter than humming-bird, or bug, or bee, 
Or blithesome butterfly the flowers among; 

Nor able longer to contain my glee, 
I 'gan to hum a spiritual song, 

Which once was cudgel'd into me with trouble 

By my good dad, the reverend Parson Bubbl^:. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 33 

LXVII. 

" I sung — and lo ! a fiery comet, flinging 
Its tail abroad, came rushing down the air, 

Mayhaps attracted by my charming singing 

From its ethereal home — who knows ? — for there 

Was Orpheus, whose primeval anthems ringing 
Caus'ii rocks to dance, and Pluto's self to swear 

His wife should go — mov'd by his song's attraction^ 

Our bards had mov'd him too — ay ! to distraction. 

LXVIII. 

" Now, friend, I fear you'll think I am a ranker 

Liar than e'er was traveller before. 
When I assert that comet came to anchor 

Right o'er my head, like a huge seventy-four 
Or Spanish galleon, dreading some dark bank, or 

Hidden rock, lies off the adjacent shore ; — 
But 'tis a solemn fact — and on it lay 
A spirit strange, that kept its course in sway. 

LXIX. 

" The spirit rose and plac'd his arms akimbo. 
And, looking at me, said, with a queer wink, 

' Young chap, you'll leave awhile this lower limbo, 
And take an airy jaunt with me, I think.' 

He ceas'd — I felt as if I must with him go ; 
So up I sprung, and, lighting on the brink 

Of his conveyance with an airy bound, 

I sat me down as on the solid ground. 



34 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

LXX. 

" And then the comet courser wagg'd his tail, 
And off we went ! as swift as from the sun 

A beam of light shoots to this lower vale 
Of darkness, or a ball from a big gun. 

Away ! along the milky path-way pale, 
The turnpike of the gods, we swiftly run, 

And 'mid the rolling planets, while our ears 

Were greeted by the music of the spheres, 

LXXI. 

"Which we'd no time to barken unto then, 

But shot along upon our airy journey, 
Unnumber'd miles above th' abodes of men. 

While round our path, on every side did burn a 
MiUion of starry chandeliers. — But when 

We reach'd the highest point, my guide did turn a 
Little downward, and then began to go 
As swift as ever to the world below. 

LXXII. 

" Adown th' ethereal turnpike we did roll — 
Stopping to sup with the man in the raoon — 

Then o'er the ocean to the southern pole 
Of little earth, where we arriv'd full soon ; 

And here there is a most tremendous hole, 
(For all the earth is hollow as a spoon). 

Where is a Paradise, some author says — 

I fancied something worse in my young days. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 35 

LXXIII. 

" The Paradise of Fools it is, — located 

By Johnny Milton over the backside 
Of the broad earth — Our comet here abated 

His course, and from his back we both did slide, 
And found a lonely vessel that awaited 

Us, setting like a sea- gull on the tide. 
And in the stern there was an aged Charon, 
Who look'd quite grim, with big, black, bushy hair on. 

LXXIV. 

" The little boat was fill'd with authors quite, 

Ail journeying to the Paradise of Fools, 
Who, huddled all together, seem'd to sight 

As sage and grave as asses, or as mules ; 
The least of them had made a book in spite 

Of Nature, Common Sense, and Reason's rules, 
And they had all upon the earth been sent. 
Like locusts, for men's crimes a punishment. 

LXXV. 

" A host of bards, too numerous far to name, 
Who scorn' d Castalian waves for a mud-puddle, 

Besides some scores of rhymeless sons of fame, 
Who, having fulfiU'd their mission, in a huddle 

Were squatted in the boat — nor should you blame 
Me if I proudly held aloft my noddle. 

And felt extremely vain as I bethought me 

To what high company the halter 'd brought me. 



36 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

LXXVI. 

" Well, here we were — and every precious soul 
Was journeying to the land of Paradise ; 

And soon we came unto that mighty hole, 

Which widely gap'd before our won'dring eyes ; 

We enter'd, and the joyous waves did roll 
Us 'neath a light like that of northern skies, 

When splendid meteors on the surface play, 

And make a sunless, never-ending day. 

LXXVII. 

" Within this place we, in our little boat, did 
Enter forthwith, and there spread out before us 

Unnumber'd pleasant isles, 'mid which we floated— 
They were, my comet-rider did assure us, 

Th' abodes of such as on the earth devoted 
Themselves to Folly, and did swell her chorus 

The loudest of the sons of mortal men. 

And serv'd her faithfully with voice and pen. 

LXXVII. 

" Right in the entrance of this place did stand 
A kind of custom-house, or court— erected 

That they might smuggle nothing contraband 

In here, but that all things might be inspected ; — 

So that none e'er might enter this sweet land 
Of fools, save only those who were selected 

Because of the high earthly eminence 

They'd gain'd in waging war on Common Sense. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 37 

LXXIX. 

" One met us here with, ' You are welcome, brothers, 

Into the Paradise of Fools, I'm sure ; 
Albeit there have so very many others 

Come crowding in of late upon this shore, 
That their vast multitude now almost smothers 

Old Eavius, who, with Meevius and some more. 
Doth sit in judgment yonder to inspect 
The crowd, and the unworthy to reject.' 

LXXX. 

" He led us where these men of ancient days, 
With several others of more modern date, — 

M'Flecknoe, Dennis, and the bard whose lays 
And tartar the same way did operate, 

And in the stomach a rebellion raise — 

Great Doctor Blackmore — and some others sate — 

All men who once administer'd the curse 

Unto poor mortals of dull prose and verse. 

LXXXI. 

"Translated to this Paradise, they were 

Forthwith exalted to the bench, because 
Of their known zeal for dullness. — Seated there, 

Their business was t' administer the laws 
Of this same place impartially and fair, 

So that no one might enter, save it was 
First prov'd (on Bavius' dullest tome they swore) 
That with his books he'd made his hundreds snore. 
4 



38 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

LXXXII. 

" Authors alone were by these judges tried — 
(Though there were courts for other dunces too, 

Where other judges also did preside) ; — 

When we were usher' d in, there was no few 

Of learned writers stow'd on every side ; 
And on the bench, quite awful to the view, 

Great Bavius and his brethren held their place, 

And were deciding on a scribbler's case. 

LXXXIII. 

" ' Come, fellow,' said old Bavius, ' will you cease 
Those struts awhile ? — for I would have you know 

That not of the ' Faex Populi' are these 

Same folks that you must mix with here below ; 

So lower your lofty crest, and, if you please. 
Some cause or reason unto us just show 

Why we should let you in.' Quoth he, ' I'll try it, or 

By Dullness' sacred name ! I'm not the Viator. 

LXXXIV. 

" ' Why should I be admitted, d'ye inquire, 
Into the Paradise of Fools ? By Jupiter ! 

It is enough to set a man on fire. 

To barken unto questions such as you put here ! 

Who dare deny my right? 'Tis true no lyre 
I've strung like you, O Bavius ! yet no stupider 

Dull volumes ever plagu'd a luckless nation 

Than those which I've sent forth without cessation. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 39 

LXXXV. 

-« ' Why should I be admitted ? Have I not 

Written long disquisitions on the laws 
As dull and heavy as a bag of shot ? 

Or if, perchance, there's sometimes sense, oh, pause ! 
Reflect ! and let it never be forgot 

That finest marble even has some flavins ! 
And, if I did, indeed, sometimes write sense, 
'Twas 'gainst my will — so pardon the offence. 

LXXXVI. 

" ' Besides, is not the Viator enough 

T' admit me to the Paradise of Fools ? 
For, though Pm modest, PU aver such stuff 

Did never yet sink 'mid oblivion's pools, 
As this same book, so heavy that no puff 

Of my most faithful friends and clever tools, 
A brace of editors, could ever raise 
The thing to notice with inflated praise. 

LXXXVII. 

■'' So, being a thing of dullness and obscurity, 
You'll think of its pretensions none the humbler ; 

And yet I really know not if before it I 

Had not far better place the famous " Grumbler," 

Which of your favour is my best security ; 

For though, O MfBvius, you once rode a stumbler 

For a Pegasus, yet your heaviest strain 

Would seek to equal this dull prose in vain. 



10 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

LXXXVIll. 

" ' And have I not held forth on dream and vision, 
And taught my drowsy audience how to sleep ? 

And when they afterwards expressed a wish, on 
Some subject grave, to hear a lecture deep, 

As if to treat the project with derision, 

And show I thought them all but senseless sheep, 

Did I not go back to the bloody Jews — ahem ! 

And talk about the burning of Jerusalem ? 

LXXXIX. 

" ' Besides, have I not shown the loathsome rabble — 
(Who heeded not for want of informatian, 

Nor 'd send me to the Capitol to babble, 

Though 'tis well known that once a mighty nation 

Was sav'd by ganders' patriotic gabble) — 
Have I not shown them that a reformation 

Can ne'er be had, though at the work they hammer 

Till doomsday, save they have a proper drama ?' 

XC. 

"'Bravo!' cried Bavius ; ' let the fellow in ! 

His title to admission is quite clear!' 

' Amen !' said Msevius ; ' 'twere a burnins: sin 

And shame to keep him longer waiting here.' 
The bench applauded, and a general din 

Ran through the court-room, foUow'd by a cheer. 
'Silence!' cried Bavius; 'peace! And now straightway 
Him in our 'custom'd uniform array.' 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 41 

XCI. 

" A splendid pair of asses ears were brought, 
And plac'd upon him without more ado ; 

The fellow prick'd them up, and, as I thought, 
Exulted vastly in these honours new ; 

A long and bushy tail was also sought, 
And added to his decorations too, 

Which he did proudly wave with graceful switches, 

As through a hole it pok'd behind his breeches. 

XCII. 

" And then they op'd a door to let him out 

To Paradise — at which he cut a caper, 
And, mad with joy, did wildly frisk about, 

And play'd more antics than did nimble ape e'er ; 
Then loudly bray'd, ' O Bavius ! without doubt 

You will reward the writers in each paper, 
Who prais'd my works !' Cried Bavius, ' To-be-sure I' 
At which he vanish' d through the open door. 

XCIII. 

"Bring forth th' American, and also let 

His brother Patriot take his place beside him. 

Our friend hath told us (if I don't forget) 

That you two gentlemen with puffs supplied him ; 

And that you've brought him greatly in your debt 
By praising him when others did deride him : — 

Say if 'tis so, and on what grounds you rest 

Your expectations of here being bless'd.' 
4* 



42 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

XCIV. 

" ' What grounds ?' cried they : " why, is it not enough 
That we have prais'd this fellow's load of lead, 

And to each piece of nonsense lent a puff, 
Merely because he was high-born and bred? 

And do we not praise all the silly stuff 

That issues from a foreign coxcomb's head — 

And then with want of notice w^ould put down 

Each man of merit in our native town ? 

XCV. 

" ' For,' quoth the Patriot, ' there 's one Natty Brooks 
(Whom ne'er let in if he should come this way, 

For he persists in writing clever books) ; 
I pass'd him o'er in silence, till one day 

Good brother Benjamin cast fav'ring looks 
On some few verses that had gone astray 

Of his, and call'd them Norton's, — when, Oh Lord ! 

I nearly burst, endeavouring to applaud.' 

• 
XCVI. 

" ' As for my claims, good Bavius, be it known' 
(Exclaim'd the other) ' that I am a writer 

Myself, to whom small favour hath been shown, 
Except by dunces, — which did not delight e'er, 

But rather stirr'd my gall, as I must own. 
And in the end transform'd me to a biter ; — 

And as a terrapin, hid in the mud. 

Wishing to snap, is seen above the flood, 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 43 

xcvir. 

" ' So such as I do into notice rise 

When with our critic's spite we seek to tilt one 
Of Genius' sons from where the public eyes 

Are fix'd upon him. — Bryant, Dawes, McJilton, 
Dana, Cooper, Ingraham I despise. 

And have a mind to curry down old Milton. 
I hate all Indian stories, and alone am I 
In favour of political economy. 

XCVIII. 

" ' 'Tis true, when we do drop the cudgel critical 
(That is, myself and my good brother here), 

And, letting authors be, become political, 
Most gracious judges, we do greatly fear 

That we have grown so sadly heteroclitical 
As to write pages sensible and clear; 

But we repent, and hope that will pievail 

On you to grant to each the ears and tail.' 

XCIX. 

" The court declar'd they were exceeding loth 

To tear an ornament from either brow, 
And if they 'd put themselves upon their oath, 

And give their solemn, sacred pledge, and vow 
T' abstain from politics, they would to both 

The ears and tail most willingly allow. — 
'Twas done — they were equipp'd, and, when 'twas o'er, 
Let into Paradise, and seen no more. 



44 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 



" ' Well, as we've sent to Paradise an editor 
Or two already, let us have some more ; 

And, by the by, there 's one, who is a creditor, 
Now standing here, for quite a heavy score ; 

At least he 's by his actions loudly said it (or 
I've lost my recollection) o'er and o'er. — 

Come, bring us hither brother Benjamin ! 

And now, good Ben, why should we let you in V 

CI. 

" ' May 't please the court,' said he, ' I will not fib it. 
As editors are known to do sometimes. 

But faithfully my just demands exhibit; — 
Well, first of all, I've tortur'd little rhymes. 

And strung them up, as felons on a gibbet 

Are punish' d for their foul misdeeds and crimes ; 

And, when I've rack'd them into strange contortions, 

I misname poesy the foul abortions. 

CII. 

" ' Besides, I'm a philanthropist, and do 
Contribute greatly to the world's repose, 

By penning, ever and anon, a few 
Unwieldly paragraphs of stupid prose, 

Which, with their dull, oblivious powers, unto 
Forgetful sleep my readers all compose, 

And give unto the sons of care and toil 

A pleasing absence of the world's turmoil. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 45 

cm. 

" ' I praise myself, because I can't prevail 

On other folks t' applaud a single lay ; — 
And, mighty judges, if you grant a tail, 

Oh let it be a peacock's tail, I pray ! 
That I may spread it out before the gale, 

And strut about in my accustom'd vay, 
Provided it is not against the rules 
Which regulate the Paradise of Fools.' 

CIV. 

" 'Assuredly, good sir,' (the judge replied, as 

He gave a smile benignant and serene,) 
We'll not refuse to you a tale as wide as 

Was ever on a turkey-gobler seen ; 
And you shall also be like ancient Midas, 

And have your head two mighty ears between. — 
But first of Natty Brooks ! — come just report 
The whole of that affair unto the court.' 

cv. 

" ' Well, please you honours, the affair stands thus : 
Brooks is a man of genius, you must know. 

And writes such verses as are scorn' d by us 
Who gain admittance to these realms below ; — 

Therefore I've o'er his lays e'er made a fuss, 
(I treat the best of native writers so,) 

And fretted and fum'd, and swore they were not passable, 

And that I hardly deem'd them e'en jack-assable. 



46 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CVI. 

" ' One day I captur'd several straggling rhymes, 
Which every body own'd were pretty fair, 

(Though Brooks hath written better oftentimes ;) 
The devil put it in my head they were 

Written by one who dwelt in foreign climes, 
(A Madam Norton,) so I did declare 

They were superb, (I praise imported books, 

Or good or bad,) when, lo ! the lays were Brooks' ! 

CVII. 

" ' I scorn all native writers, save the worst, 
And deem my own productions most divine ; 

I puff them tin I'm almost fit to burst. 

And fancy half the ' World' of letters mine ; 

And yet he who imagines that as first 
I in the ranks of self-applauders shine, 

Is labouring under quite a grievous error, — 

For there 's my worthy brother of the Mirror.' 

CVIII. 

" Quoth Bavins, ' Bring the Mirror into court, 
For in a lump we might as well reward, 

As soon as possible, this latter sort. 

Whose business is their own good selves t' applaud ; 

For if we don't — from making a report. 

In their own favour, they will scarce be aw'd 

E'en by our presence and express command ; — 

So straightway call the Mirror to the stand. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 47 

CIX. 

" ' And now, good Mr. Mirror, please to mention 
The grounds on which you found superior claims 

Unto a larger portion of attention 

Than all the rest of these illustrious names.' 

' Upon what grounds ? — why, please the learned bench, on 
The well-known fact' (he pompously exclaim'd) 

' That I have sacrific'd on Dullness' shrines 

Whole hecatombs of most unmeaning lines. 

ex. 

" ' Upon an oyster I have penn'd a libel, 

And, foully filching the poor fish's spirit, 
Infus'd it into songs I can't describe well, 

Nor tell the half of their transcendent merit ; 
Yet ne'ertheless I'll swear (not on the Bible, 

But Blackmore's Epics) that they did inherit 
Due praise on earth from men of Maevian mind ; — 
' A fellow feeling made them wondrous kind.' 

cxr. 

" ' But on these grounds I do not found my title, 

Nor mean to rest exclusively my case ; 
For in the Mirror (where great men, who right well 

Have earn'd by merit a conspicuous place, 
Have all their portraits) your astonish'd sight will 

Behold the glory of my brazen face : — 
Who lauds himself, 'gainst Modesty's known rules, 
Is surely fit for Paradise of Fools. 



48 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CXII. 

" ' And am I not, besides, a mighty General, 
And, like great General Boon, a pioneer ? 

And, 'stead of sword and axe, did with my pen o'er all 
The wilds of literature a pathway clear 

For my good brother editors, e'en when o'er all 
Their faces spread despondency and fear, — 

I made the press just what it now appears.' — 

' You did !' cried Bavius. — ' Ho ! the tail ! the ears 1' 

CXIII. 

" ' Stop ! stop ! nor be in such a dreadful hurry, e'er: 

But let me do due justice unto others. 
Though I did shock dame Modesty, and worry her. 

As spoilt, unbeaten brats do vex their mothers. 
Yet these two fellows of the Saturday Courier, 

My very worthy and respected brothers. 
Could ever, at admiuist'ring a pufF 
Unto themselves, surpass me far enough.' 

CXIV. 

"They were brought forward, and forthwith declar'd 
That what the General said was very true, 

For that, both day and night, they labour'd hard 
To give unto themselves their rightful due. 

And for that purpose every week prepar'd 
Whole swelling paragraphs of praises new, 

Which left but little room for them to pack in 

Murders, and fires, and verses of McMakin. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 49 

CXV. 

" ' Enough ! enough ! And now, my four good fellows, 
Just stand along here all before my eyes ! — 

And, that no one among them may be jealous, 
Give each a peacock's tail of the same size. 

And put into each hand a pair of bellows, 
With bellyful of swelling puffs and sighs, 

So that each man may kindly puff his brother, 

And thus they'll mutually assist each other.' 

CXVI. 

" They all felt pleas' d unto their very souls. 
And proudly swell'd like stately turkey-cocks ; 

All spread their tails, as Juno's pompous fowls 
Display their grandeur to the feather' d flocks ; 

And yet they look'd as sage as solemn owls, 
That moralize at midnight to the rocks. 

As, with his ass's ears and peacock's plume, 

Each gravely strutted from the crowded room. 

CXVII. 

' Like goodly goblers, they went strutting out, 

With spangled tails all proudly hoisted o'er 'em. — 

Old Bavius fondly gaz'd — they turn'd about 
And bade another dunce be brought before 'em. 

They came so thick that I began to doubt 

If on the earth there 'd long be left a quorum ; 

In which event there 'd be a dearth of folly, 

Which was a thought extremely melancholy. 
5 



50 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS, 

CXVIII. 

" Cried Bavius, ' Let 's endeavour to get through 
The pressing business of the court as soon 

As e'er we can. — And who the deuce are you 
That comes before us now, sir ? What ! buffoon, 

Bard, critic, ******* too ! 

Or came you from the earth, or from the moon ? 

You ' come in such a questionable shape,' 

I hardly know if 'tis a man or ape.' 

CXIX. 

" Quoth he, ' I publish' d once a Magazine, 

Which as the Gentleman's was widely known, 
Betwixt whose pretty covers of light green 



I wrote ' The Light-ship and' — ' the Light-ship ? ho ! 
Give him the ears and tail, and let him go. 

cxx. 

" ' But who comes hither with that curious jumble 
Of vials and verses in his paws. Oh did a man e'er 

Before upon so queer a fellow stumble ! 
Who are you, sir ?' ' Why I'm *. *. **, 

Whose many claims are any thing but humble, 
And must gain him admittance : — so bid ye manna, 

Nectar, ambrosia — every thing that 's nice. 

To be prepar'd for me in Paradise.' 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 51 

CXXI. 

" ' Nectar — ambrosia !' said the judges ; ' pshaw ! 

His head is running now on heathen food ; 
But here you'll cram such things into your maw 

As th' essence of a donkey's brain well stew'd, 
Which makes you, when your gander quill you claw, 

Write the duller, my dear. But have you good, 
And proper, and sufficient grounds t' admission 
Into the place where you may dine this dish on.' 

CXXIL 

" Quoth he, ' Indeed I scarcely understand you, sirs ; 

For aught I know, you speak unmeaning jargon ; 
But if I can engage you, Msevius, and you, sirs, 

Good Bavius and good Blackmore, in a bargain 
To read these little verses which I hand you, sirs, 

I think you'll own that I am pretty far gone 
In folly, and will be convinc'd at once 
Your humble servant 's a confounded dunce. 

CXXIII. 
"' It is an eulogy which I have penn'd 

In other words, my poor abus'd ******." 
' The lines,' quoth Bavius, ' truly put an end 

Unto all doubts — so ** you may dance it 
Along ' upon the light fantastic toe' 
To Paradise as soon 's you wish to go.' 



52 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS, 

CXXIV. 

" The fellow took the studs and wouldn't budge. 
But, turning up his glist'ning eye and nose, 

He op'd his mouth, and said unto the judge 
That he would like to read some bits of prose, 

Which were in fact his master-pieces. — ' Fudge V 
Cried Bavius : ' do you really then suppose, 

My **** that we never chanc'd to see 'em 

Disgrace the ********* or the ****** ?' 

"He cock'd his tail, then said, ' Have you e'er seen 
A little volume, Avith two azure covers, 

(The best part of the work, by far, I ween,) 
Containing, first of all, the ' Polish Lovers,' 

And other nonsense 'twixt two lids of green ? 
I ask you — for my knowing eye discovers, 

Ev'n now amid the crowd, the gentle bard — 

And won't your honours give him a reward ?' 

CXXVI. 

" ' Why, yes ! — it will not do to overlook 

The man who taught the world the reason why 

Job wish'd his enemy io write a book, — 
Although he nearly had escap'd my eye. 

Squatted upon his hams in yonder nook ; 
But haul him forth, and we will not deny 

To you, kind-hearted *** your request, 

But he shall in your company be bless'd. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 53 

CXXVII. 

" ' So both toorether o-o. — And who is here ?' 
'I am,' said he, the man who, for the hero 

Of a long string of verse not very clear, 
Did take a two-legg'd nothing call'd Cabiro. 

' The reason why I in your court appear 
Is that my earthly fame is down at zero, 

For there all sensible and clever men did 

Affirm the thing could ne'er be comprehended.' 

CXXVIII. 

" Quoth Bavius, ' Is it not, my honest fellow, 

Written in the Italian verse, octave ?' 
' It is,' replied the bard. ' The cover 's yellow ?' 

' It is, sir.' ' With Count Julien you once gave 
Small pleasure to the purchaser or seller. 

And brought Don Carlos to an English grave 
By foully murd'ring Schiller ?' ' Yes.' ' The tail ! 
And now, sir, march oif in the others' trail. 

CXXIX. 

" ' And now just make way for the great Yemassee, 
The man who strove to knock the lights and livers 

From sense and nature, when he did harass ye 
Poor probability in his ' Guy Rivers,' 

And ' Damsel,' where just like a vicious ass he, 
With spiteful heels, kick'd fiercely into shivers 

Your barriers strong, aad thus an awful wreck did 

Sternly make of what all ages had respected. 
5* 



54 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CXXX. 

" ' So let him in. And tell me who are you ?' 

' O, sir,' said he, ' I truly am a Bird, 
Who on non usitata penna flew, 

(As in old Horace's phase may be averr'd,) 
And turn'd a very famous songster too ; 

For all the vulgar many, when they heard 
My song about the old blaspheming ' Broker,' 
Cried out, ' Have we an owl or a shitepoke here ?' ' 

CXXXI. 

" ' Well, let him in. — And who are you ?' ' I wrote 
The Rival Harps.' ' You did ?— and Melodies V 

' E'en so.' ' And in your Clipper set afloat 
Some neat poetic wares ?' ' Yes,' he replies. — 

Well Charon needn't have lumber' d thus his boat 
With such stufl" as you,' old Bavius fiercely cries : 

' Ho ! fellows, turn him out of doors at once ! 

He has no business here ! he is no dunce ! 

CXXXII. 

" ' And, brethren of the bench, I think that we. 
For fear some more our business may impede, 

Had better straightway issue a decree, 
(To be like law of Persian and of Mede,) 

That from the world aloft such men as he 

Must never come here. — And just let me read 

An order which I have already fram'd. 

In which you'll find all the proscrib'd are nam'd. 



/ 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 55 



CXXXIII. 



" 'Be it orr'.ain'd, and number'd with the laws 
Observ'd among us, that the court do ne'er 

Take cognizance at all of any cause 

Where each or any of these names appear — 

To wit: Brooks, Halleck, Dana, Hillhouse, Dawes, 
Irving, or he that wrote the Pioneer, 

McJilton, Ingraham, Jared Sparks, and Dwight, 

Arthur — and put the *********** to flight. 

CXXXIV. 

" 'Turn Billy Bryant forthwith out of doors, 

And ditto do to Doctor Percival ; 
Should Sedgwick pay a visit to our shores, 

Or Leslie, never notice them at all ; 
For o'er their works no reader ever snores. 

Nor doth old Morpheus wait upon their call ; 
So these, and many more of this same tribe. 
The court do here eternally proscribe. 

cxxxv. 

" ' And now to business, for that fellow 's stood 
Long waiting there with his drag-net and hook ; 

What have you caught, sir ?' ' Why, from Lethe's mud 
I've manag'd somehow to fish up this book. 

Which tells of folks that liv'd before the flood. 
I am th' Antediluvian, who once took 

The trouble to compose a ponderous libel 

Upon the rev'rend patriarchs of the Bible.' 



56 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CXXXVI. 

" He read one line — old Bavius gave a yawn — 
Another — and he straight began to snore — 

A third — and fast to sleep the court had gone — 
A fourth — each man lay prostrate on the floor — 

Yet still the stubborn bard kept reading on 
Until he 'd drawl'd a dozen verses o'er, 

When to his breast he dropp'd his drowsy head, 

And also on the floor did make his bed. 

CXXXVII. 

" Now at the first I clapp'd ray hands right o'er 
My ears, and so escap'd the fatal sound, 

For I had felt th' effects of verse before ; 
But when I cast my anxious eyes around. 

And saw that now the danger was no more, 

The bard himself being wrapp'd in sleep profound, 

I took them off again, and the loud snoring 

Was like the noise of many torrents roaring. 

CXXXVIII. 

" While, thunder-struck I gaz'd upon the sight. 
Thinking, poor souls ! they 'd never wake again, 

Nor yet would find in slumber much delight. 
For each groan' d heavily, as though in pain, — 

While thus I gaz'd with horror and affright. 
There came into the hall a pompous train 

Of three strange females and two martial men, 

Each strutting like a cock beside his hen. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 57 

CXXXIX. 

"The men were captains, and they all were fools, 
Who from old England's isle had wander'd here ; 

Each one of them had brought his writing tools. 
With which he libel'd all things far and near ; — 

They gaz'd upon the sleepers 'neath the stools 
And benches, and exclaim' d, with scornful sneer, 

' Yankees, by Jove !' And then, as quick as thought, 

Each one his pencil and portfolio sought. 

CXL. 
" One famous captain straight produc'd his Diary, 

(While every woman drew forth a big journal,) 
And 'gan to scribble with hot haste, and fiery. 

Remarks as bitter as a peach-stone's kernel. 
He laid his volume on a stool, nor higher he 

Than three lines penn'd, when chance did overturn all ; 
It gave a luckless slip, and fell like lead, 
And hit the hapless poet on the head. 

CXLI. 

" Tlie bard sprung up, and yell'd out, ' Murder ! death !' 
Old Bavius woke, as with the nightmare screaming. 

Gasping most horribly, and out of breath. [ing ; 

Blackmore cried, 'Help!' and Dennis rose blasphem- 

Flecknoe moan'd piteously his chair beneath. 

And Mjevius swore (his eyes with fury gleaming) 

He 'd be aveng'd upon that cursed bard 

Who made the incubus press him so hard. 



58 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CXLII. 

" ' Forbear !' cried Bavius : ' let him not be hurt ! 

Upon your lives let no mischance befall 
This bard : — yet, lest he interrupt the court 

Again, conduct him forthwith from the hall ; 
But treat him kindly, for this man shall sport 

The largest ears and longest tail of all ; 
For, by this drowsy tome of monstrous size, 
No fitter man e'er enter' d Paradise.' 

CXLIII. 

" The bard dismiss' d, the court took up the case 
Of the new-comers, and to them propounded 

These queries, namely, why they look'd for grace 
And favour there, and on what grounds were founded 

Their rights t' admission in that happy place. 
At which one of the valiant captains bounded, 

Like nimble monkey, into a tall chair, 

To lay it off with a rhetoric air. 

CXLIV. 

" He wish'd to read — the judges didn't relish 
The thoughts of sleeping more, so did refuse ; 

He said he 'd penn'd lies (like ' forgotten Mellish') 
On folks who knew not how to blacken shoes, 

And had a practice, absolutely hellish, 

Call'd gouging, too ; for, when he once did choose 

To lady passengers to be uncivil, 

Being set ashore, they goug'd him like the devil. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 59 

CXLV. 

" ' Ay ! goug'd ! and for the sake of these same creatures 
Who, whea a Trollope visited their nation, 

(Exclaim' d a she with dark and sullen features,) 
Did think her company a degradation. 

I penn'd a book of fables (that even beat yours. 
Good Captain Booby), and in my narration 

Belied the natives to my heart's content, 

Which work I as my passport here present.' 

CXLVI. 

" She ceas'd, and frown'd most horribly. And then 
Another straight began to use her tongue, — 

(She seem'd to have more favour with the men, 
Because she was quite pretty and quite young ;) 

She said unto the learned judges, when 

She had some 'witching glances on them flung, 

' Just let me read this work which I exhibit, 

And show your honours how I there do fib it.' 

CXLVII. 

" ' No reading, if you please, my gentle madam, 
But give us verbal samples of your claims 

T' admission, if you have or ever had 'em. 

' Well, then,' said she, 'my lib'ling budget blames, 

'Mongst other things, these Yankee sons of Adam, 
Because their loathsome nastiness even shames 

The swinish race, all put unto the blush 

By their promiscuous use of the tooth-bruslw 



60 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CXLVIII. 

" ' So not to throw my pearls before such swine, 
Who know not how their teeth and nails to clean, 

I took good care that in this book of mine 
Nor sense nor decency should e'er be seen, 

But that, to suit their tastes, each vulgar line 
Should bring to light allusions low and mean. 

And then the bastard thing, that I call'd humour. 

Did limp as though disabled by a tumor.' 

CXLIX. 



C( ( 



Enough, sweet Fanny ! — And now who are you 

That, with huge ear trumpet, stands list'ning thus ? 
Not like fair Fanny, pleasing to the view, 

But old and wrinkled.' — ' Sir, we won't discuss 
That matter now — although you surely do 

Know that ' the toad, ugly and venomous. 
Hath yet a precious jewel in his head,' — 
Or you will know it when this book you've read.' 

CL. 

" ' Madam,' said Bavius, ' if old wither'd witches, 
Likd'you, are pleas' d to straggle to this land, 

They shan't be smuggled in in Shakespeare's breeches ; 
All goods like his are ever contraband 

In this same place — and very painful twitches 
It gives my stomach when he 's quoted, — and 

I can't see why the deuce, old lass, you must 

Be quoting what creates such strong disgust. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 61 

CLI. 

" ' If you've no stronger claims here, you had better 
Be off at once.' ' I have ! I have !' ' Oh, well ! 

If that 's the case, please, madam, to unfetter 
Your tongue,' said Bavius, ' and unto us tell 

If you e'er made a single dunce your debtor 
By giving him a sip from Dullness' well ; 

No one gets in unless his brainless skuR 

Hath given birth to something very dull.' 

CLII. 

" She thrust her hand into her reticule, 

Pull'd forth a book, and was about to read. — 

' Forbear ! upon your life ! Why, you old fool !' 
Said Bavius, ' will you stubbornly proceed 

In flat defiance of our recent rule. 

By which it was most solemnly decreed 

That from thenceforth the court would have no reading, 

But business should be done by oral pleading ?' 

CLIII. 

" 'Well, sir,' said she, with look extremely crabbed, 
' From these two volumes I was going to show. 

Just at the moment when so very rabid 
You and your brethren all saw fit to grow, 

And, putting in your rude and senseless gab, did 
Me, as it were, from off my balance throw, — ■ 

I just was going to show what reformation 

Is needed in that blackguard Yankee nation ; 
6 



62 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CUV. 

" ' For those poor negroes (whom the king of Britain 
Had brought from Afric o'er the ocean wave, 

That slavery, Uke an incubus, might sit on 
His colonies) the Yankees still enslave, — 

So, please your honours, I two tomes have written, 
To prove, by a dull train of reasoning grave, 

That they should set them free, with a permit 

To cut their children's throats when they see fit. 

CLV. 

" ' Not Neptune's mighty ocean had been ample 
Enough to cool my zeal if I 'd been young, 

For of philanthropy I 'd given a sample 

While I did dwell those cruel men among, — 

And who may know but that my bright example 
Had some compassion from their bosoms wrung ? — 

I say, if young, I would have op'd a house. 

And ta'en a good big nigger for a spouse.' 

CLVI. 

" ' Enough ! good madam — you may onward pass.— 
And say, sir, who are you ?' The man, replying 

He was a warrior of the naval class, 

Said he shot with the long-bow, and in lying 

(A thing wherein none could him e'er surpass) 
His flag ne'er struck while any man's was flying, 

That lately he had turn'd a famous traveller. 

And of the following facts was the unraveller : 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 63 

CLVII. 

" How Yankee lads in cunning are so far gone, 
That each the muzzle to his dog's tail tacks ; 

How Yankee girls have, riding in a car, gone 
To swopping clothes from off their very backs ; 

How Yankee farmers whittle out a bargain ; — 
From these and other philosophic facts 

He threw new light on Yankee institutions. 

And show'd th' effects of written constitutions. 

CLVIII. 

" ' Enough ! enough ! concerning that same journey 

And famous Diary — 't was a happy hit. 
And now upon yourself, good captain, turn a 

Slight glance, and tell me, if you so think fit. 
If. when you drew the character of Kearney, 

You did not mean to represent by it 
The man you've known the longest and the best — 
Your worthy self?' Said he, ' You've truly guess'd.' 

CLIX. 

" Cried Bavius, ' Ho! fellows, a big drum get, 
And set it down there on the floor below, 

That each one of these boobies here may thump it ; 
And he who thumps the loudest shall — but, no! 

I had forgotten ! — it should be a trumpet, 

Massive and large, that who through it can blow 

The longest, strongest hurricane of lies. 

May have the highest seat in Paradise.' 



64 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CLX. 

" ' For God's sake !' cried old Blackmore, ' let them not 
If they must blow, blow here, or it may be 

A mortal blow to us !' ' Ay ! I forgot — 
Just turn them out the room, or else may we 

The lock-jaw get ; — the doctor knows what 's what ! 
And, in the name of wonders ! who is he 

That yonder comes with stately bosom swelling, 

And wagging tongue, like clapper a church-bell in ?' 

CLXI. 

" He told them that he was the drowsiest orator 

A certain earthly Congress ever saw. 
When with inflated speeches he did bore it, (for 

He strove, like Sampson, with an ass's jaw, 
And thought to sweep his enemies before it far,) 

Making the fools cry. Hear! the wise men, Pshaw ! 
From the far west to Congress he was sent on — 
Some call'd him Humbug, and some called him B-t-n. 

CLXII. 

" In all his speeches 't was his highest boast 

That he had never us'd rhetoric figure, 
But turn'd them out into the world almost 

As bare and naked as a shirtless ' nig-o-er' 
Whom southern suns in cotton fields do roast. 

He lov'd gold dearly, even when no bigger 
Than half a man, and had a certain failing 
Which sometimes set his enemies to railing. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 65 

CLXIII. 

'* He once begat an offspring, and the same 
Call'd Golden Humbug, and he lov'd it dear, 

For it bid very fair, when it became 
A little older, to create some stir, 

And, like a mighty conqueror, with its name 
Spread awe and consternation far and near, 

For, in its swaddling clothes, it through the nation 

Caus'd panic, misery, curses, desolation. 

CLXIV. 

" ' Now be assur'd,' said Bavius, 'that you have 
For a long time been known and heard of here, — 

So execute the order that I gave 

You fellows some time since, that he may e'er 

Upon the air two drowsy pinions wave, 
And thus a living humbug shall appear 

Unto all men, as heavily he flies 

Right through the op'ning gates of Paradise.' 

CLXV. 

" 'T was quickly done. The statesman's hands and feet. 
As if by magic, to great bug's claws grew; 

And, with two monstrous wings, he 'gan to beat 
The burden'd air, and heavily he flew, 

A mammoth beetle, from the judgment-seat, 

And sail'd, with dignity, the court-room through, 

Emitting from his wings a drowsy humming. 

To let the people know that sleep was coming. 
6* 



66 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CLXVI. 

" They all declar'd his pinions gave a sound 
Such as his voice had always done before, 

And with the self-same influence did abound, — 
With a great buzz he vanish' d through the door. 

Old Bavius blandly smil'd; then, turning round, 
Was startled by a strange and wild uproar, 

The cause of which I will, if e'er I can, sir, 

Explain to you in the ensuing stanza. 

CLXVII. 

" Well, it appears that the old faithful Charon 
Had brought a load of critics in his boat, 

And every mother's son of them, with care, on 
His shoulders did into the court-room toat, 

Though at the risk of every bit of hair on 
His grey head, which their fingers did devote 

To ruin, and did fiercely set to tearing, 

Kicking most furiously the while, and swearing. 

CLXVI II. 

" It was their habit, and they could not help 
From doing now what they had done so long. 

Old Dennis, when he heard them hiss and yelp, 
And screech so hideously the crowd among, 

Rememb'ring that he 'd been himself a whelp. 
When on the earth, of that same critic throng, 

Was from that fact fiU'd with the full conviction 

That they came under his own jurisdiction. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 67 

CLXIX. 

" One of them was a North American Savage, 
Another one they did the Knickerbocker call, 

With several others, who did sometimes ravage 
The fields of literature, and fiercely maul 

Each luckless wight who (when they chanc'd to have rage 
And bitterness stirr'd up within their gall. 

Making them mad, like dogs in August's sun) 

Just like a fool within their reach did run. 

CLXX. 

" These were the men ' who first for poets past,' 
(As is so finely and so truly said by Pope,) 

' Turn'd critics next, and prov'd plain fools at last.' 
And when, poor souls ! their Muses did elope, 

After first standing some few hours aghast. 
Each settled down into a misanthrope, 

And took to snapping, snarling, howling, hissing, 

Like folks whose wives have other men been kissing. 

CLXXI. 

" They kept the narrow toll-gate to Parnassus, — 
For 't is most shrewdly said by that queer fellow, 

So fam'd for his ill luck among the lasses. 

The far-renown'd and quaint old Samuel Weller, 

That, in the world, when unto luckless asses 
Some bitter portion of mishap hath fell e'er, 

They straightway vent the venom of their souls 

By keeping gates and making folks pay tolls. 



68 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CLXXII. 

" So did they act precisely on this principle, — 
And now, to give their spite and anger play, 

Cuff'd Charon, but were not to make him wince able — 
He coolly brought them in, and went away. — 

And Dennis scrutinized, and found invincible 
The pile of evidence they did display. 

When from some hidden reason he did choose 

To turn each man of them into a soose. 

CLXXIII. 

" Maybe it was because geese hiss and cackle, 
(Which is almost the only thing they do,) 

As do these critics o'er each bard they hackle 
And tear to pieces in a fierce review ; 

Besides, a goose with quills doth clothe his back well, 
And so doth each of these pen-w-asters too ; 

And then a goose is a confounded dunce. 

And here you see the parallel at once. 

CLXXIV. 

" I can't describe to you how these same creatures 
Forthwith began to hiss, and squawk, and squall. 

And then display their very vicious natures 
By a promiscuous attack on all, 

Thrusting their beaks into a fellow's features. 

While with their wings they did his person maul, — 

Nibbling at fingers, thumbs, and feet, and toes, 

And one flew up and bit at Bavius' nose. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 69 

CLXXV. 

Oh, Lord ! turn these most devihsh creatures out,' 

Said he to Dennis, ' or, as I'm a sinner. 
With ruthless beaks they'll nibble off each snout. 

And on our thumbs and fingers make a dmner !' 
Old Dennis did the furious ganders rout 

And banish — but it scarce grew calm within ere 
Blackmore exclaim'd, ' There 's Flecknoe,by St. Luke! in 
The corner yonder, deadly pale, and puking!' 

CLXXVI. 

" ' Run, Doctor Blackmore, run ! and bring your physic, 
Exclaim'd the frighten'd judges in a breath. 

' He heaves and gasps as though he had the phthysic ! 
His lips are blue ! his cheeks are pale as death 1 

And, as when one with the dread cholera is sick, 
His stomach shows rebellion foul beneath ! 

Oh, bring your nostrums out ! for, if not soon 

Reliev'd, we fear McFlecknoe 's a gone coon.^ 

CLXXVII. 

" Blackmore, in haste, drew forth a powerful potion, 
Which down his throat the sick McFlecknoe took. 

And truly you can have no kind of notion 
How very soon it made him better look. 

When he recover' d somewhat, with emotion 
He from beneath his coat produc'd a book. 

And threw it furiously upon the floor. 

And stamp'd upon it, and most loudly swore. 



70 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CLXXVIII. 

" ' For shame !' cried Blackmore ; ' why, it is below 

The dignity of your official station 
To rave and curse so fiercely, and bestow 

On a poor book such treatment, and' — ' Darnatlon !' 
Cried he, 'just hold your tongue, and let me go ! 

And I will trounce that fellow, like the nation, 
Who had the insolence to put this book in 
My hands — he knew 't would set me soon to puking !' 

CLXXIX. 

" ' What book ? What fellow ?' ' Why, the Parricide ; 

The man who wrote Misserrimus, and some more 
(For aught I know) such sick'ning works beside. 

As soon as Charon set him in the door, 
He came and drew me to yon nook aside, 

And in a flatt'ring manner laid before 
My gaze a pile of volumes, wishing me 
Th' exclusive judge of his own cause to be. 

CLXXX. 

" ' While you were dealing with the ganders, I 

Was safely perch'd up in a high recess, 
And there forthwith began to run my eye 

Over each leaf of printed loathsomeness. 
Which I wish none, except an enemy, 

May ever have the ill luck to possess. 
I read some pages, and then felt my breast 
And stomach heaving, and — you know the rest.' 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 71 

CLXXXI. 

" Said Bavins, ' Come, good brother, don't be wroth ! 

To read the book was surely most unwise ; 
So rather blame yourself, nor deal out oath 

And cruel wish against the author's eyes ; 
His works are very dull, and I am loth 

To turn the fellow out of Paradise.' 
Said he, ' Let me reward him, then, I pray.' 
Quoth Bavius, ' If you must, sir — why, you may.' 

CLXXXII. 

" The invalid then turn'd to Dennis, and 

Exclaim'd, ' Good brother, will you kindly do 

Me a small favour ? and it will command 
My lasting gratitude ; for I did view. 

Not along ago, your wondrous sleight of hand, 
And am convinc'd there 's no one here as you 

So handily can fubricate a fowl — 

So turn this gloomy fellow to an owl.' 

CLXXXIII. 

" 'T was done. The owl look'd grave, perch'd up each 
ear. 

And op'd his mouth and cried, 'Tu-whit! tu-whoo!' 
Then, spreading out his dusky wings, did steer 

Right to the door, and through it swiftly flew ; 
And, as he vanish'd, there did then appear, 

Within the other door, a comer new. 
Whose face peer'd out, like visage of a monkey, 
From 'neath a load he carried like a donkey. 



72 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CLXXXIV. 

" He bore his monstrous burden in, and laid 
It gently down, and then began to puff — 

'T was thus he always did on earth, 't is said, 
When he would bring to notice this same stuff, 

Well knowing that, unless he lent his aid 
Unto his offspring, they 'd fare bad enough. 

Old Bavius star'd, and ask'd him from what road 

H e'd come, and why he bore so huge a load. 

CLXXXV. 

" Then, even as Balaam's beast, when he was seiz'd 

Upon the road with a rhetoric fever. 
As he perceived his honest carcass squeez'd 

By one who had just turn'd a foul deceiver 
To his own kin and nation, and was pleas'd 

To curse them fiercely, for the unbeliever 
Spake out and ask'd him what he meant, — 
So spake this ass, as grave and eloquent. 

CLXXXVI. 

"He told the court his name was Jonathan, 
The brother of Parrhassius, a sweet bard. 

For foolish ditties fam'd ; — and that they twain 
Were welded to each other fast and hard ; 

That he 'd come on before, to make as plain 
As possible their right to a reward, — 

While th' other stopp'd to finish a dull poem, 

Which sometimes caus'd his Pegasus to throw him. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 73 

CLXXXVII. 

"As for himself, he 'd lent his aid t' encumber 
Some twenty magazines with sundry trash 

In prose and verse, and help to write a number 
Of them both out of credit and of cash, — 

And afterwards he gather' d all his lumber 
Together, and ev'n found a man full rash 

Enough to take with him a part and lot in 

The book, and publish it to be forgotten, 

cLxxxviir. 

" Each dog hath had his day, but this same tome 
In truth can scarce be said t' have had its minute ; 

Oh no, they never mention'd it — save some 
Who 'd lost a few unlucky pennies in it. 

' Its name was never heard,' and all were dumb 
About its merits, and no puff could win it 

The slightest praise or even observation — 

Which surely here 's its highest commendation. 

CLXXXIX. 

" ' I turn'd it off (as writers of this sort 

E'er do who fill with saleless trash some shelf) 

By stating that 't was publish'd, not to court 
The public favour, but to please myself. 

Each purchaser exclaim'd, ' It may be sport 
For you, old fellow ; but why take our pelf 

By printing volumes which, 't was understood, 

All men might buy, and read, as being good r' 
7 



74 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CXC. 

" ' But on these and my other early feats 
'Tis not my present purpose long to dwell, 

For this, my final effort, fairly beats 

Them all outright. — But will your honours tell 

Me if you've ever seen my mammoth sheets. 
Which in our sacred cause cut such a swell ? 

See here !' At that he spread upon the floor 

A monstrous paper measuring ten feet o'er. 

CXCI. 

"The court held up their hands and op'd their eyes. 
And Blackmore said, ' Didst ever see the beat!' 

' 'Tis nothing ! nothing ! In that pack,' he cries, 
' I have a thousand more just like that sheet. 

Each one of which should gain me Paradise — 
Not that with dullness they are all replete, 

(Though mostly full of trash ;) but that they have 

Brought native genius almost to the grave. 

CXCII. 

" ' For, though our mammoth here doth freely swallow 
Whole lots of foreign book-trash down his throat, 

And pours them forth, that multitudes may wallow 
In all the stuff that English dunce e'er wrote, 

Yet from these facts th' inference doth not follow 
That he'll take what ne'er o'er the waves did float, — 

He scorns all such, except it be some strain' 

(I started here) 'just like the ' Lady Jane.' 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 75 

CXCIII. 

" ' For I would have the Yankee folks to know 
(And make them thus to foreign coxcombs yield 

The paths of learning) that, though long ago 
Their Henry did the mighty thunders wield 

Of eloquence, as Webster now, — and though 
They ever beat the British in the field 

And ocean, and knew how, at Bunker Hill, 

To use their arms, they ne'er can use the quill.' 

CXCIV. 

" Said Bavius, ' I do think that this same chap 
Has done as much to further dullness' cause 

As any man that ever had the hap 

Around a grey goose-quill to throw his claws. — 

So twist his big sheet into a fools-cap. 

With strings to tie it underneath his jaws. — 

And now to Paradise just bear your pack, as 

A German pedlar or a Spanish jack-ass.' 

cxcv. 

" ' Nay ! sir ; first let me tell you, ere I go. 

About Parrhassius, my brother dear. 
Who will, I fancy, shortly come below, 

If to an end he 's brought his poem near ; — 
But Pegasus kick'd up not long ago. 

And toss'd him in the mud, and much I fear 
The luckless bard may ne'er get out again, 
And so the world may lose the ' Lady Jane.' 



76 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CXCVI. 

" ' He is a bard deservedly popular 

(As he himself, as editor, doth state here) 

At home and in the British world afar ; 
Although not an original creator 

Of what he hawks about as his own ware, 
But only an assiduous imitator. 

With his own servile and slow-moving pen, 

Of what is written by some other men. 

CXCVII. 

" ' For, like the famous bull-frog in the fable, 
(That swell'd himself until he burst his hide. 

Trying if he to match the ox were able,) 
He squats himself some greater bard beside, 

Just like a tea-pot sitting by a Babel, 

And puffs and blows his belly out, and side, 

With empty breath, to swell his puny size 

Until he thinks he with his betters vies. 

~ CXCVIII. 

" ' No man can write a poem but he'll seek 
T' imitate, and do just as th' other did in 

His verses, till he finds his pinions weak, 
And that his fancy, feeble and bed-ridden, 

Won't bear him to Parnassus' lofty peak. 

Nor will the Muses alwa3's come when bidden 

By each pert poetaster who 'd intrude 

Profanely on their sacred solitude. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 77 

cxcix. 

" ' But, though the Muses scorn him, yet the misses, 
Who in the ball-rooms giggle, blush, and dance, 

And pout their little lips, as if for kisses, 
Oft give unto his lines a fav'ring glance. 

And cry, ' Ok, what a pretty poem this is !' 
For in cotillions he can neatly prance, 

And with his bows hath gain'd him popularity, 

Which else would truly be to him a rarity. 

CC. 

" ' And now in his own journal he is praising 

Himself prodigiously in heathen style, 
Like Horace, when he fancied that his days in 

The earth were ending, and his mortal toil. 
And boasted that he felt pen-feathers raising 

Upon his legs, and that, ere a great while, 
On a cygnet's wings he 'd from the earth cut loose — 
But then I think my brother '11 prove a goose. 

CCI. 

" ' And now, you see, I've shown he is about 

As big a dunce as any you have here, 
And most unquestionably have made out 

His right and title to admission clear ; 
But, that there be no shadow of a doubt. 

Here 's ' Lady Jane.' ' When once more I did hear 
That name, my anger I could not contain. 
But cried out, ' Devil take the Lady Jane !' 
7* 



78 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS, 

ecu. 

" Oh that I had not been so rash — profane ! 

A cry of horror burst from every Up ! 
' Who 's that ? Who speaks thus of the Lady Jane? 

Accursed wretch ! begone ! Ho ! fellows, ship 
Him off, nor let him e'er come back again ! 

For if you do, blasphemous imp ! we'll dip 
Your head and ears into old Lethe's pools ! — 
What brought you to the Paradise of Fools ? 

CCIII. 

" ' Didst speak ill of the Lady Jane ? — Begone ! 

Vanish ! and let us see you here no more !' 
Right by the ears I through the room was drawn, 

And, with a kick, sent headlong from the door; 
I fell — arose — the sprite who 'd brought me on 

The comet's back unto this place before, 
As I got up, was standing by my side — 
He frown' d upon me, and began to chide. 

CCIV. 

" ' A pretty pass you've brought yourself unto. 
By making such a most confounded fuss 

About that poem, which the judges do, 
Within this place, consider the ne plus 

Ultra of dullness, and of folly too ! 
I fear that now the jig is up with us 

In every court here. But we'll try — so come !' 

I follow' d, conscience-stricken, sad, and dumb. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 79 

ccv. 

" He led me elsewhere. — But I think I 'd better 
(For there 's a cursed soreness in my throat) 

Defer th' account until I write the letter 
In which I mean to send you back the note 

For which, you recollect, I stand your debtor. — 
They said I'd have to read what W-U-s wrote. 

And B-nt-n spoke, before I would be fit 

Within the Paradise of Fools to sit. 

ccvr. 

" And so they sent me back, upon the comet, 

To earth, to study well the ' Lady Jane,' 
And learn to be a perfect ninny from it. — 

I for my carcass hunted long in vain ; 
At last I found that, brought unto your home, it 

You had within your chamber closet lain ; 
The body's mouth was open, and the soul 
Crept, like a little mouse, into its hole. 

CCV II. 

" And there it nestled. — But the master-wheel. 
Which moves the whole machinery of life, 

Would'nt stir an inch. — No language can reveal 
With what strange horrors my poor soul w^as rife 

As it sat shivering there, and thought to feel. 
Each moment, your cold, keen, dissecting knife 

Tearing each joint and ligament in twain. 

And forcing it from house and home again. 



80 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CCVIII. 

" But oh ! 't was joyous ! when I saw you come 
(As through the windows of my eyes I star'd 

Most anxiously) with a nice cup of rum, 

And not, with horrid knife and elbows bar'd, 

To rip me up. And, when you gave me some, 
It really seem'd as if all was repair'd 

Within my body, which did then revive 

And, sitting up, began to feel alive. 

CCIX. 

" You know the rest — as how I scar'd you so."— 
" Tush !" said the doctor. " Beelzebub, I fear 

You've lied confoundedly, for I do know 

That these same authors, that you 'd have appear 

T' have gone into your Paradise below. 
Are even now, as ever, scribbling here 

Upon the earth most furiously. So can 

You just explain this contradiction, man ?" 

ccx. 

Quoth Bubble, " I'm your subject, and, beside, 

Am under sundry obligations, or. 
Good doctor, when you told me that I lied, 

By Jupiter ! I 'd slapp'd you on the jaw ; 
But, as it is, I'll lay offence aside, 

And, keeping from your chaps my angry paw. 
Will tell you what they told me as I rode 
Upon the comet unto your abode. 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 81 

CCXI. 

" They said that Bavius, list'ning to a tune 

Which several little planets 'gan to play, 
Was seated on the tip end of the moon, 

And with his spy-glass saw on earth that day 
Such a great shoal of fools as (if they soon 

Should wander off to Paradise away) 
Would give the judges far more work to do 
Than for a long time they could e'er get through. 

CCXII. 

" And so he hasten' d home with all his might, 
And call'd the court together, anil then told 

Them that they 'd be in a most awkward plight 
When all these waves of folly on them roU'd, 

Unless indeed some very knowing wight 
Amongst them could a remedy unfold. 

Each learned judge began to scratch his head, 

And Maevius op'd his mouth and spake, and said, — 

CCXIII. 

" ' Bavius, it is no use to scratch your pate to 

Find out a clever and convenient plan. 
Call up and judge th' Idolon, or (as Plato 

Hath it, I think) the idea of each man, 
In his own stead, since he is not in state to 

Be judg'd himself.' Assenting murmurs ran 
Throughout the room, and each one clapp'd his paws. 
And by that sign betoken'd his applause. 



82 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CCXIV. 

" ' What are ideas ?' said I. ' Why, images, 

Or antenatal types of things that be ; 
A kind of models — and for each of these 

There is a living, breathing man, you see, 
Walking the earth or sailing on the seas. 

These ideas do exist eternally, 
And do ideally whate'er is done 
In substance by the bodies — every one.' 

ccxv. 

"But one thing I almost forgot to mention, 
(And beg your pardon, ye blue-stocking fair ;) 

Which is that, in the whole of my detention, 
I scarcely saMr an idea of you there ; 

To which I quickly call'd my guide's attention, — 

' Oh, pshaw !' said he : ' my friend, you're dull, I swear 

To pester folks upon your earthly ball 

They've long been made without ideas at all.' 

CCXVI. 

" And now, dear doctor, as twilight is weaving 
A sable shroud, in which to wrap the sun, 

I think that I must bid you a good evening ; 
For I can now be recognized by none, — 

And much I fear my aged sire is grieving, 
And thinks there 's also lost to him a son ; — 

So thank you most sincerely for your trouble ; 

And now I'll go and hunt up Parson Bubble." 



THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 83 

CCXVII. 

But the physician was then fast asleep, 

Or else he lied most foully in his throat, 
Which loudly snor'd. So Beelzebub did creep 

Close up, and help'd himself to a bank-note 
The doctor in his pocket-book did keep ; 

And from the closet took his best new coat ; 
Then bow'd politely, as he clos'd the door — 
Went out — and all the world was spread before. 

CCXVIII. 

And so good-bye to Beelzebub ! And now 

Good-bye to you, ye gentle authors all ! 
Perhaps some of you'll show a frowning brow. 

And glare upon my Muse with fierce eye-ball, 
And call her termagant, and vengeance vow, 

Swearing she 's fill'd my ink-horn up with gall ; — 
But come ! don't kick too fiercely at this strain ! 
For Pve the lash prepar'd for use again. 

CCXIX. 

And ye, sweet savage critics ! (those I mean 

Who each in nature is so like a spider, 
That he can only grow big by his spleen, 

And swell to notice when he turns derider ;) 
Just let my Muse alone ! for if 'tis seen 

That you have e'er maliciously belied her, 
By foully stating what is most untrue. 
By Jupiter ! Til lay the lash on you ! 



84 THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. 

CCXX. 

And if you think to kill with a critique 

The bird whose wings were never tried before, 

Or ev'n to maim and cripple him do seek, 

Perhaps you'll find you're of your game not sure. 

And that you've caught a live hawk by the beak ; — 
For, gentlemen, I'll pay you off the score, 

And say, in Shakespeare's words, " Lay on, Mac Duff ! 

And d — d be he who first cries, Hold! enough /" 



NOTES. 



The low and vulgar style in which it is written, &c. 

Critique, p. 8- 

Old Simon Snappingturlle (may the foul fiend fly away with him 
for bis snappishness,) is not the only one who has a distaste for every 
thing common or unclean in composition. We see that a certain 
fastidious-exquisite, of a certain paper, in a certain city, not a thou- 
sand miles from the place where this was penned, denounces Mr. Wil- 
mer's new Satire as low and vulgar in style and sentiment. We 
opine that the worthy critic will pronounce us a very low fellow, 
when he finds that we have furnished him with sundry ornaments, 
which would probably but little inhance his appearance in a ball-room. 
In order to avert the storm of wrath impending over our unlucky 
head, we beg leave to state that, when we first took up the pen to 
deal with his long-eared worthiness, we fully intended to praise and 
not to censure, but that, having dashed oflt" a few laudatory stanzas, 
we were reading them to a certain wickedly-witty friend, when he 
exclaimed in a pathetic tone, and with a mischievous twinkle of the 

eye — 

"Ah ! who in lofty numbers can surpass 
The bard who soars to eulogize au ass?" 

which put us so out of conceit with our lines, that we threw them in 

the fire and 

"Smear'd the page with gall instead of lioney;" 

but as the offence, like manslaughter, was committed in the heat of 
passion, wo think that the punishment should be lighter on that ac- 
count. 

But notwithstanding that the "Paradise of Fools" is all "low stuff"," 
I, Nathan Nobody, do most positively insist upon it that I am not a 
low fellow, but a gentleman. True it is that I do not, by dint of 



8G NOTES. 

cheating my tailor, wear the best of coats. True it is that I do not 
gird up my loins with corfets, and curl my "whiskers fine." True it 
is that my bow is any thing but graceful; that I have never been am- 
bitious of making my tongue the organ of "agreeable nonsense," 
(proh Jupiter!) and my mouth a perennial fountain of folly; that I 
disdain to emulate the glorious achievements of a monkey, and have 
never condescended to caper and frisk, with puggish activity and ease, 
around the narrow limits of a ball-room, looking upon dancing as a 
relic of the customs of barbarous times, and as much to be despised, in 
the present enlightened age, as the worshipping of the beetle, or any 
other heathenish practice. I say, nolvvilhstanding all these alarming 
truths, I plead not guilty to Ihe charge of being a low fellow. For, 
verily I say unto you, my father owned a domain of some twelve or 
fifteen hundred acres of rich landed property, with a house big enough 
to accommodate a letjion; and if that does not make me a gentleman 
I don't know what will, unless it be that my mother has now, at this 
very moment, locked up in her old dusty bureau, a pedigree of all 
llie Nobodies, from (I believe) the days of Shem, Ham, and Japhet — 
down to the present time, which said pedigree was not only ennobled 
by crossing the Atlantic, but furthermore containeth the names of 
Captains, and Corporals, and Commodores, and actually of one whole 
live English Baronet — which Baronet aforesaid may be a booby or a 
scoundrel for ought I know to the contrary, but it nevertheless is a 
Baronet, lying and being somewhere in the kingdom of the prolific 
Mrs. Coburg, Queen of Great Britain, and Ireland, (and France, I be- 
lieve,) and Defender of the Faith. 

I am therefore a gentleman, both by descent and purchase, and yet 
I am excessively fond of "low stuff,'' such as was written by Field- 
ing, and Smoilet, and Shakespeare, and Burns, and most heartily de- 
spise the imbecile refinements and insipid inanities of this generation 
of vipers. And I do most firmly believe that, if the present taste con- 
tinues to progress, iho silly hankering after fashionable Novels, 
Poems, &c. &c., and the contemptible outcry against what is termed, 
by whiskered nothings and romantic maidens, "low stuff," that is 
against correct delineations of human nature as it really is, will con- 



NOTES. 87 

sign Homer, and Chaucer, and Shakespeare, and Fielding, and Dry- 
den, and Pope, and Burns, and a whole host of geniuses to the tomb 
of the Capulets, and place Willis, Morris &. Co. upon tiie highest peak 
of Parnassus. Dii avertitc ! 

Puffed it himself, &.c. — Stanza xxxiii. 

1 read, in one of tlie columns of the "Brother Jonathan," the title 
of a poem called the "Lady Jane," by N. P. Willis; 1 then looked at 
the top of the paper for the editor's name, and lo ! it was N. P. Wil- 
lis; I then turned over, and under the head of editorial miscellanies, 
read a "pufF grandiloquent" upon the "Lady Jane," wherein, amongst 
other wonderful news, I found the startling annunciation that the 
aforesaid N. P. Wilhs is "one of the most deservedly popular writers 
in either hemisphere." I say startling; for, if true, it virtually pro- 
claimed the downfall of literature. 

"Heaven help the rest ! 
What must they be when Willis is the best." 

The glory of my brazen face, Sec. — Stanza cxi. 

This bard has a sufficiency of brass to make a cauldron big enough 
to roast all the geese that ever cackled with delight over his inane 
productions. The unheard of impudence, of placing his own portrait 
amongst those of the other distinguished men of the day, was only 
equalled by his lately announcing himself as the pioneer of American 
literature, boldly asseverating that he alone made the periodical- 
press of the country what it is at present. One might readily ima- 
gine that it was the doings of some such coxcomb. None other could 
have introduced a style of writing that threatens the final destruction 
of the English language; — a style in whicii some insignificant idea is 
buried in a mountain of words; whicli said mountain, after laboring 
tremendously, always manages to bring forth a mouse; — a style which 
somewhat resembles that of a certain fastidious wight, whom Ave 
lately heard disdaining tho homely language of his forefathers, and 



88 NOTES. 

expressing what Uie bulclieis would call the good condition of an- 
other, by the following elegant circumlocution; "the spiritual nature 
of that beautiful damsel is enshrined in a large quantity of corporeal 
matter," meaning, I suppose, that the girl was fat. 



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